


More Than Words

by Ace_Valentin_21



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble book, Drabbles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mute Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers is a good boyfriend, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, oneshots, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Valentin_21/pseuds/Ace_Valentin_21
Summary: Steve hasn’t spoken a word since he woke up from the ice. That doesn’t mean Tony loves him any less.





	1. Try To Keep You Company

**Author's Note:**

> The war had taken it’s toll. Steve and Tony had lost a lot that day... but not eachother.
> 
> Since No Need For Words got such a great reception, I’ve decided to start a drabbles book for Mute!Steve. Requests and suggestions are welcome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war had taken it’s toll. Steve and Tony had lost a lot that day... but not each other.

Steve traces his hand over Tony’s cheekbone, running his fingers across the cut on his face. The blood had been cleaned off, the wound had almost healed but the scars would always remain. 

Tony opens his eyes slowly, bleary and tired. Steve smiles softly; he’ll never be able to get over the sight of his lover in the early morning, warm and heavy-lidded. He circles one finger around the new arc reactor - yet another thing that had changed since their three-year separation. Steve had missed him so badly. 

Nobody else could fill the hole in his heart that Tony occupies. He understands Steve in a way that makes him wonder how they could have ever disagreed. He loves Tony more than words can describe, so he doesn’t bother.

Tony makes a muffled noise as Steve brings his hand back up to his face, and leans into his touch. He presses a kiss to Steve’s palm, and pulls him closer with the arm wrapped around his waist. Tony kisses his wrist, then lets Steve cup his chin. He leans upwards to press his lips to Steve’s, and mumbles a sleepy “Good morning” as he pulls away. 

What Thanos had done had taken a huge toll on those of them left alive. Some, like Rocket, retreated into dark corners to grieve. Others were galvanised into action, like Okoye, and were scouring the earth of even the slightest chance of bringing their fallen friends back. But Steve has learned to treasure what he has because of what he’s lost. 

He slips a hand under Tony’s head and runs his thumb across his temple. How are you feeling?

He didn’t say a word, but Tony knows exactly what he means.

“I don’t know how I feel, Steve,” he admits, voice hoarse. “Sometimes I just feel so... angry. Like every particle in my body just hates, hates, hates Thanos and everything he did, but sometimes all I feel is tired. Weak. Like I don’t have enough energy to care.”

Steve presses his lips to Tony’s forehead. This is good for him, to talk about how he feels - and good for Steve, too. He needs to know. 

“But you’re always there. You listen. You don’t mind if I’m out of it or anything, you just love me. You have your own feelings, and your own issues, and God knows you feel as shitty as I do, but you never let me feel like that for long. Sometimes I think all your love helps balance out the hate,” Tony speaks in a rush, like the words are burning in his throat and he needs to let them out. 

What they’d lost that day was impossible to forget, and Steve doesn’t think anything can ever be the same as before; but no matter what happens, he will always be there for Tony, and he knows that Tony will always, always be there for him, knowing him, seeing all of his flaws and hearing none of his voice but loving all of him anyway. 

Steve pulls Tony closer to him, placing his bent arm under Tony’s head and tangling their legs together. Tony sighs and closes his eyes, pressing himself against Steve like the space between them hurts him.

Steve will never let Tony lose him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since No Need For Words got such a great reception, I’ve decided to make a book of drabbles, one-shots and the like for Mute!Steve/Tony. Requests and suggestions are more than welcome!


	2. Glassy Eyed and Screaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was expecting a relatively subdued day, maybe some minor action, but mostly lazing around in the compound.
> 
> But not this. Anything but this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For marie72, who requested a hurt!Steve fic. Enjoy!

It was supposed to be a slow day.

 

Tony thought this was going to be the kind of day that never really gets started; for the Avengers, that means movies in the compound, boot camp and skills training, a possible brief on a new target, but no real action. If they were called out, it was for something little: a rogue bot, super powered vandals or muggers, high profile organised crime and the likes.

 

But not this. Never this.

 

“Steve! Steve, where are you? Can you hear me? Please , Steve, just - answer me, please, Steve, _Steve_ -“

 

A muffled groan a few metres away. Tony runs towards the sound, clambering over chunks of concrete and huge panels of shattered glass. _Thank god it’s all reinforced, or there’d be shards everywhere and he’d be in a lot more trouble._ Tony barely has time to think this before he comes across Steve, off to the side of the expanse of rubble.

 

He could not take it back fast enough.

 

Steve is half sitting, half lying down, propped up by his elbow, across a large fragment of concrete. His face is littered with cuts and bruises, and out of his stomach -

 

Oh, god. Oh, god, no.

 

A jagged shard of glass, at least a foot long, runs straight through his stomach.

 

Tony drops to a crouch beside Steve, hands shaking, eyes welling up with tears.

 

“Oh, Steve, no, oh god no - Steve, how did - does it -oh, god, Steve, _please_ \- you’re gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay-“ Tony is babbling, he knows that, but he can’t stop. Looking down at the man he loves, red blood staining the blue of his suit, he doesn’t know whether he’ll make it out alive.

 

Tony feels faint. He stumbles forward onto his knees, bracing himself on Steve’s shoulder. He runs a hand down his chest, down his stomach. He’s crying now, fat, salty tears leaving tracks in the dust on his face.

 

“Oh, Steve, I - I’m so sorry, I wasn’t there, I couldn’t help you- let you get hurt - okay- you’ll be okay, everything will-“

 

Tony cuts off as Steve presses a finger to his lips. He can taste the blood and dirt on his face, on Steve’s hand, but he doesn’t care. His shoulders are shaking, his body racks with sob, and yet Steve remains calm. He tilts Tony’s chin up with his hand, forcing him to look him in the eye. Clear, beautiful blue, untainted by the red seeping from his stomach. Tony lets his eyelids flutter closed as Steve brings his hand to the back of Tony’s head, pulling him in. Tony rests his forehead against Steve’s, one hand on his shoulder and the other trailing down his body. He can’t stop mouthing “it’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay,” less for Steve’s benefit than for his own.

 

Steve pushes his hand through Tony’s hair and runs it back down and across his neck, soothing. Tony looks into Steve’s eyes, so close to his own, and sees no fear in them - only concern. _He’s worried about me_ , Tony realises. The thought is almost laughable.

 

“I love you, Steve,” he whispers, voice breaking. Steve brings his hand to his cheek, tracing circles on his cheekbone with his thumb. _I love you too._

 

He could hear his teammates calling for him, but he didn’t answer. He was safe in his silence, here with Steve, talking without speaking.

 

He takes his hands from Steve’s body to his face, clasping him tightly as his body shakes with a new wave of deep, piercing pain.

 

_It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay._


	3. Stardust Has Nothing On Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can be surly and reclusive when he’ s sick, but it’s only a matter of time before he shows another side - and Steve is the only one lucky enough to be there when he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For solangelams, who requested sick!Tony. Enjoy!

“Chicken soup? Really, Steve?”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow at Tony, who makes a grab for the steaming bowl in his hands. He pulls back sharply, holding the soup just out of Tony’s reach. The other man swats at his arm.

 

“I was joking, I love your cooking and I’m sorry, now _please_ give me the soup,” Tony grumbles, but Steve can hear his sincerity and brings the bowl down to Tony’s level. He goes to drink it straight away, but he stops as Steve slides an arm under his back, lifting him by the waist until he’s sitting up on the couch. _Don’t eat lying down._

 

Tony leans into Steve’s hand as he draws away, then frowns up at him. “I wasn’t going to spill it on myself, Steve, I’ll be fine.” Steve pays him no mind as he lifts Tony’s legs and sits down, Tony’s feet in his lap.

 

Tony had started coming down with a cold about four days earlier, and now it was fully-fledged sickness. He is famous for being completely insufferable when he is ill, and Steve is famous for his ability to put up with him.

 

It isn’t always fun, but it’s not horrible, either. Sometimes Steve has to hold a bucket in front of Tony as he throws up his dinner, or force him to sleep when he’s writhing and sweating with a high fever. Other times, he gets to spend hours of quiet time with Tony, sketching him or watching a movie together or just having a conversation. Tony says the most insightful things when he’s sick

 

Steve remembers the first time he took care of Tony, who had caught the flu after returning from a mission in Bolivia. For the most part, Tony whined and slept and did little else, but they’d had a long conversation as the fever reached it’s peak. Steve doesn’t recall what they were talking about, but he remembers Tony saying, “I’m not afraid of death, I just don’t want to stop helping.” Steve had felt a surge of admiration for him in that moment, and he couldn’t forget that conversation if he tried.

 

It’s getting dark, and Tony is becoming visibly distressed. He sets the soup down on the coffee table, still half full. He shifts his legs, like he wants to move them off of Steve’s lap but can’t quite muster the strength. Steve frowns in concern, leaning across the couch to place a hand on Tony’s forehead. He’s running hot, very hot. Steve immediately moves Tony’s legs and comes around to sit beside him at the end of the couch. Tony sighs, relieved. Steve feels guilty; the serum gives him a naturally high body temperature, so being so close to him could not have been comfortable for Tony. It’s hard to restrain himself from reaching out to touch Tony, hod his hand, caress his face, but he knows it’s for the best.

 

“Do you think the stars are disappointed in me?”

 

The sudden question catches Steve off-guard. He has no idea how to respond. Thankfully, Tony doesn’t seem to be looking for an answer from him, so Steve is content to listen.

 

“I mean, the stars have been around forever, and they’ve seen everything that’s ever happened on Earth - they’ve seen the first oceans form, the continents breaking apart, the first life, the evolution of humans and animals and everything else, everything everything everything in history. You’d think that nothing would impress them anymore, would it, because they’ve seen the best already, but they saw a world without kindness and love and curiosity and civilisation, too, didn’t they? So they’d be, they’d be proud of Mandela, Einstein, Newton, Theresa, Shakespeare, Curie - and I want them to be proud of me, too, but I don’t think I deserve it. I didn’t care about other people, I was greedy, I manufactured bombs, for god’s sake! I’m trying, I’m trying to be better, I am, but I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for them.”

 

Tony takes a deep breath.

 

“But in the end, do I need them to approve of me? Do I? I don’t know. I think that’s what I want, because they’re so huge and beautiful and so so so old and I wish that I were a good enough person, so that they actually see me on this huge planet because I’m just so small...”

 

Steve is tearing up. He can’t help it. Hearing the man he loves speak like this, so reflective and full of wonder, is so incredible, so dear to him - before he met Tony, he had never known that you can cry from loving someone so much.

 

Tony is breathing heavily, sweating and shifting as he trails off. He turns his head to look at Steve, eyes shining.

 

“I think they see you, Steve. You’re just so, so everything, so kind and strong and honest, they’d have to see you, and they’d be impressed - but they wouldn’t be proud. They’d be jealous, because you’re bigger and brighter and more beautiful than them - don’t shake your head, I’m right, I’m right and you know it. You’re better than them and they can’t love you because I love you more and there isn’t enough room in the universe for anything to love you as much as I do.”

 

Steve lets himself cry, feeling the tears slip down his face, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him.

 

“People think you’re not good enough because you don’t talk, but that makes you better because you don’t need to talk to make everything beautiful, you do it just by being there and you save people and you love love love so much, it’s amazing that you have anything left for me, but you do. You do. You still leave more than enough love for me, and you’re still amazing even when you’re only here with me, you’re so beautiful. I hate it when you cry, because it means you’re sad or you’re hurt and you don’t ever, ever deserve that, but I love it too, because it looks like you caught the ocean in your eyes and some of it is spilling out and it’s - I - I want you to know I love you, Steve, I love you even if the stars don’t, and I don’t care if the stars aren’t proud of me as long as you are.”

 

Tony reaches out his hand to touch Steve’s face, his eyelids drooping. Steve can tell he’s on the verge of sleeps. He stands, stoops to pick Tony up, cradled him in his arms as he carries him to bed.

 

When Tony is like this, so awestruck and reverent and honest, he shows another side, another layer on top of every other part of him - and it’s just another reason why Steve loves him more than the stars will ever know.


End file.
